Puppy Love
by Shang it
Summary: fluff and drabbles interpersed with fitting song lyrics. Parings include BR, ST SabineTunstall , AG, KD, BR BuriRaoul , OS, TJ, RS, YN, DN respectively! Don't recognize the abbreviations? Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

The Difference between Us 

(song by Jennifer Love Hewitt)

_If you really love me  
Don't try and change me  
When you look in the mirror  
It's not me you see_

**Beka pulled on the last piece of her puppy uniform, taking on last surreptitious glance at the mirror. Rosto's reflection appeared over her shoulder, half-naked. When she was done staring, the puppy bit back a growl. "How many times does Erskin have to tell you, I won't ever go with a Rusher! And that goes double for Rogues!"**

"**What about a Piper?" He asked softly.**

_I don't want your choice as mine  
No, that never crossed my mind  
I want you just the way you are  
'Cause boy, you're everything I'm not  
And that's all I've ever wanted_

**His mouth was always warm and sweet. Beka reached up and pulled his lips down to hers. She'd never go crooked, not even for him. Mayhap it was better that way. He kept her from being so straight she couldn't bend. Strong arms wrapped around her, and Beka remembered something her mama told her. Every Dog has her day.**

_If we ever come close  
If we ever discover  
How to hold on and keep our faith in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together_

"**Did you order the killings?" Beka was using her Dog voice. She wanted so badly—**

"**No. Cooper—Beka—they weren't my men. Ulsa has made her last mistake, I promise." His eyes were un-doubtable. She had learned not to question his word. For all he was crooked, she knew he'd never lie to her.**

**She relaxed, let out the breath she'd been holding. And the tears. Rosto wiped the latter away gently. Both Dog and Rogue believed in justice, and each would see it done. Rosto could promise that.**

_If we open our eyes  
Don't look any further  
'Cause we've found all we'll ever need in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together_

"**Did your birdies hear anything new today?" Rosto asked glibly. **

**Beka let out a slow, lazy smile. "You went jewelry shopping today."**

**A blush colored Rosto's pale cheeks. "I **_**meant**_**…did find anything to help your case?"**

"**You should get better birdies of your own. I hobbled the Rat today." **

**Rosto beamed at his love. Provost's Guard had never seen the likes of Beka Cooper. If the Rogue was lucky, they never would again. He made a note to find better birdies.**

_I tell you our love is everlasting  
You promise to give your best every morning  
We don't have to compromise  
Try to live each other's lives  
We can be ourselves tonight_

"**How do you think you'll be remembered, a hundred years from now?" Rosto asked. Beka rested sleepily in his arms. **

**She cracked open a single eye. "Goddess willing, not as a fishpuppy." She smiled self-depreciatingly. "Why?"**

**Rosto grinned and then kissed her smile away. "I was just wondering if any love can last that long."**

"**Rosto!" Beka pushed herself up. "Are you saying—**

"**I thought you knew by now." As the Rogue, he rarely talked about feelings. What is never said need never be unsaid. But the happiness in his puppy's eyes made the risk well worth it. "I love you…fishpuppy."**

**Beka smacked him across the nob with her pillow. After several minutes of struggle, he managed to disarm her and pin her down. He raised an eyebrow, waiting.**

"**I love you too, Piper." She admitted. Her ice blue eyes burned deep into Rosto's, spreading a very contrary warmth across his body.**

_If we ever come close  
If we ever discover  
How to hold on and keep our faith in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together_

_If we open our eyes  
Don't look any further  
'Cause we've found all we'll ever need in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together_

_So don't forget  
The words I've said  
There's nothing there  
I might regret_

**Goodwin and Tunstall were backed into a corner. They'd picked a fight with Rushers, and they were about to lose. Suddenly Rosto sauntered down the street, whistling. When he saw what was happening in the alleyway, he let out a low curse.**

"**Every cove who desires to keep his nob attached to his body, drop your weapon now." Rosto's voice was colder than the snowy mountain tops of Scanra. The Rats turned tail and disappeared, leaving Goodwin and Tunstall alone with the Rogue.**

"**Your chief won't be happy when he finds out you're giving orders in his jurisdiction." Mattes said thoughtfully. **

"**Now, who said anything about orders?" Rosto asked lightly. "I simply stopped and took a survey. Now I know Almeric's men prefer to stay in one piece."**

"**Should we thank you directly, or just have our puppy take care of it?" Goodwin asked. **

**Rosto gave the older woman a stern glance. "Beka's even straighter than you, and I'm not the sort of cove who—**

"**She was making a joke." Mattes interrupted. "Don't worry; it happens so rarely that she even catches ME off guard sometimes." **

**Rosto was about to protest—he NEVER let his guard down—but Mattes cut him off. "Speaking of puppies, let's see what our Terrier caught tonight."**

**They found Beka five blocks away, with a mean looking Rat in her hobbles. Her lip was split, her chin bruised, but she directed her concern at her senior dogs. "You told me to **_**fetch**_**, I was about to bring the scummer back." She sounded abashed.**

**Mattes shot a glance at Rosto. "Are you ever afraid our little Terrier will catch YOU someday?" He asked offhandedly.**

**Rosto shared a wry smile. "She caught me ages ago. And I've no desire to escape."**

_No, don't play games inside your head  
What's going on inside your head  
If we ever come close  
If we ever discover  
How to hold on and keep our faith in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together  
Will keep you here  
Right by my side_

**Riots in the Lower City were like rainstorms. You could do no better than to go inside and wait for the air to clear. Unless you were a Dog. Rosto helped Beka pull on her gorget. "You don't have to do this." She said quietly. **

**Rosto gave her a wide grin as he tucked away the last of his knives. "Lass, you can say that as many times as you want, I'm not letting you go out there alone."**

**Beka was about to protest—she had her dogs—but then Rosto stopped her with a kiss. "I'm going to watch your back, whenever Goodwin or Tunstall are to busy to do it themselves. I've seen you fight, you do it clean, but with a riot, you'll need someone crooked like me. Someone who'll stop the low blows and deal out a few of his own—when you're not looking, of course."**

**Beka shook her head, smiling softly. "You're crack-nobbed." She muttered.**

**  
**

_If we ever come close_

_If we ever discover_

_How to hold on and keep our faith in each other_

_The difference between us_

_Will keep us together_

_If we open our eyes  
Don't look any further  
'Cause we've found all we'll ever need in each other  
The difference between us  
Will keep us together  
Will keep you here  
Right by my side_


	2. Accidentally in Love

Accidentally In Love

(song by the Counting Crows)

_So she said what's the problem baby_

_What's the problem I don't know_

_Well maybe I'm in love love_

_Think about it every time_

_I think about it_

_Can't stop thinking 'bout it_

**Rosto studied his reflection in the mirror. He most certainly did NOT have white hair! And why should he care if he did? White hair was distinguished, mature, most mots liked older men. But not a certain blue-eyed Gixie. Rosto shook his head ruefully. He was supposed to be too smart to chase puppy tail. He was a Rogue for Mithros' sakes! Mayhap that was the problem; as a king, he wanted the one thing he couldn't have. There; it had to be that.**

**It wasn't her shy smile, the ice blue eyes that made him shiver, it wasn't her sharp bark and even sharper bite. It wasn't the sweet way her lips felt on his—**

'_**Oh laddybuck, you got it bad!'**_** Sometimes, Rosto wished he weren't so honest with himself.**

_How much longer will it take to cure this_

_Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love (love)_

_Makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love_

**He'd had a long, long night. Three rushers had each decided to challenge the new Rogue. They hadn't been much individually; but still, it there were three! One right after the other. Aniki and Kora had escorted him home, and each kissed him goodnight. Funny, how the kisses left him cold.**

**He passed by her door, and he paused. He could wake her, just to watch her hunkerbones bristle. But no, she'd probably throw a punch, and he didn't have the energy to dodge. **

**His muscles groaned as he attempted to plod on, he bit back a curse. Kora's healing was practical; she didn't bother doing much to ease the pain. Like a dog, he wanted nothing more than to curl up and lick his wounds in peace.**

"**Rosto?" Cooper stood in her doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What trouble have you gotten in now?" Her tone was disapproving, but Rosto could swear he saw concern flicker in her icy eyes. He tried to bow gallantly, but the floor rushed up to meet him. **

**Then Cooper was under him, pushing him up off the floor. "I see you're in a state." She quipped. "What you need is a woman." **

_Come on, come on_

_Turn a little faster_

_Come on, come on_

_The world will follow after_

_Come on, come on_

_Cause everybody's after love_

"_**I'm not so lonely that'll I'll be his second mot."**_** Rosto blinked in surprise. She'd already thought about it? He read on, and a sly grin crept across his face. Cooper was about as lost as he was.**

**Was it love? Not yet. The puppy still didn't know what love was. In truth, neither did he. **

_So I said I'm a snowball running_

_Running down into the spring that's coming all this love_

_Melting under blue skies_

_Belting out sunlight_

_Shimmering love_

**Beka scowled when she saw the deed in his hand. "You're going to turn my home into a tavern!" She complained. "I'll never sleep again."**

"**Cooper, Cooper." Rosto said soothingly. "We'll leave the upstairs rooms just as they are; if you're having trouble sleeping, I'm sure I can find you a suitable—**

'**Stop right there. I'm not sharing my bed with a man who keeps knives under his pillow. She's bad enough.' Pounce myrred. **

**Rosto stared openly at the cat. "How long as he…**

"**Since I found him in the stable lofts when he was a kitten. You should be pleased, not many people understand him." Beka scratched Pounce's ear affectionately.**

"**I'm more afraid of HIM understanding ME." The way the cat smirked suggested he knew exactly what Rosto was about to say. Something about an extra bed toy to help the Puppy sleep.**

_Well baby I surrender_

_To the strawberry ice cream_

_Never ever end of all this love_

_Well I didn't mean to do it_

_But there's no escaping your love_

**He helped Kora spread salve on Beka's bruises. The puppy winced, but said nothing. He frowned at the bruises; they were nasty things. "Who did this?" He asked softly.**

"**Doesn't matter, he's in the cages now." There was a distinct note of satisfaction in Cooper's voice.**

**Kora smiled. Rosto was a good cove, but a little thick-nobbed at times. This was one Terrier that caught all her own Rats.**

**Beka repressed a shiver as Rosto's strong hands slid soothingly over her back. It was a shame he'd chosen to be the Rogue. He'd have made a fine spintry. **

_These lines of lightning_

_Mean we're never alone,_

_Never alone, no, no_

**He pulled her under an overhang—to escape the rain, he said. Beka shook her head, splattering water everywhere. Rosto wiped a droplet off his face as she retied her braid. Her blue eyes sparkled, and he was mesmerized. **

**Slowly, his face inched closer to hers. His arms slid over her shoulders, drawing her closer. Her eyes were hooded, but she didn't pull away. **

**CRACK! The skies thundered with the screams of Chaos. The Rogue and Puppy jumped apart. **

**Beka gave her head another little shake, as if ridding herself of an odd thought, then she ran out from their shelter. **

_Come on, Come on_

_Move a little closer_

_Come on, Come on_

_I want to hear you whisper_

_Come on, Come on_

_Settle down inside my love_

**He waited with baited breath. She'd had several drinks, but not nearly enough. She was tipsy at most. It would take more alcohol than that. He wanted her vision to blur so badly that the straight things in her life would look crooked, and vice-versa.**

**She wobbled over to his table, smiling. He gave her a slow, seductive grin, waiting for her to fall into his lap. She'd be eating out of the palm of his hand soon enough. She was mere feet from him. Then her eyes flicked away and settled on Phelan, the cove sitting next to Rosto. She grabbed the arm of the lucky foist and hauled him to the dance floor.**

**Rosto bit back a growl. He would have killed the little Rusher if it weren't for the cove's friendship with Cooper.**

_Come on, come on_

_Jump a little higher_

_Come on, come on_

_If you feel a little lighter_

_Come on, come on_

_We were once_

_Upon a time in love_

"**This is wrong." Beka said uneasily. She had pulled away from his kiss (and it had taken every ounce of her self-control to do so). "We're opposites, every ballad ever written—**

"**Ends in tragedy, I know." Rosto wasn't interested in outdated love songs. He wanted another kiss. "I'm a master Piper, after all, I'll write some new ones."**

_We're accidentally in love_

_Accidentally in love_

_Accidentally_

_I'm In Love, I'm in Love,_

_I'm in Love, I'm in Love,_

_I'm in Love, I'm in Love,_

_Accidentally_

"**IT'S NOT FAIR!" Beka slammed her journal down on the desk. "He can have any gixie in the city, why does he bother me?!"**

**Aniki watched her young friend. Months ago, when the swordswoman became queen of the Rogue, she'd left Rosto's bed for good. Now, it seemed The Rogue wanted someone cuddlier to play with. **

"**Cooper, here are my words of advice." Aniki held up three fingers. "First, life's not fair, and then we die." **

**Beka looked shocked, surprised out of her tantrum by Aniki's dire words. The swordswoman continued, "two, you can always hope for the best, but you'd better prepare for the worst." She put down her second finger. **

"**Third, accidents happen." She pulled out an anti-pregnancy charm.**

"**Just in case." She explained slyly. Beka turned beet red, but took the charm anyway. **

_Come on, come on_

_Spin a little tighter_

_Come on, come on_

_And the world's a little brighter_

_Love ...I'm in love_


	3. An Uptown Gixie and a Lower City Cove

Uptown Girl  
(Song by Billy Joel)  
Pairing: Tunstall/Sabine

_Uptown girl  
She's been living in her uptown world  
I bet she never had a back street guy  
I bet her mama never told her why_

**Tunstall had fallen head over heels in love. Literally. As she hooked her arm around his neck, as her strong leg twisted around his, and as she angrily jerked him to the floor, he realized he'd found the One. **

_I'm gonna try for an uptown girl  
She's been living in her white bread world  
As long as anyone with hot blood can  
And now she's looking for a downtown man  
That's what I am  
_

**What was it that drew her to the Lower City? It certainly wasn't the smell. Sabine sniffed as she strolled down the street. It had to be the excitement. The air here was as intoxicating as a ride through the northern hills. The atmosphere was charged with energy, and with danger. Not at all like that stuffy palace. Suddenly, she stopped as she caught a whiff of dogwood and pine. Now ****there****was a **_**nice**_** smell. She spotted the source. Mattes Tunstall, Senior Dog, a Hillman if she ever saw one. He leaned against a scale; cool as a cat, watching her. She'd nearly walked into him. Mayhap it wasn't just the atmosphere that drew her here. **

_And when she knows what  
She wants from her time  
And when she wakes up  
And makes up her mind…  
_

"**Your pearly teeth shine like beacons of maidenly…" Joreth was off, reciting another one of his poems. Sabine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was his third dirge of the week—and it was only Tuesday! Her mind drifted, her eyes glazed over. Joreth mistook her gaze for one of enrapture, and he started his next verse with renewed enthusiasm.**

'_**I could be out drinking with the Dogs right now.'**_** She sighed. That was another mistake. Now Joreth thought she was swooning. He drew closer, took one of her hands in his.**

'_**I could be with Mattes right now.'**_** Sabine shivered. She could imagine his biting comments, his witty evaluation of Joreth's poetry. Gods, had Mattes ever written poetry for anyone? She resolved to ask him later that evening. **

**In the end, Sabine kissed Joreth, just to shut him up. Afterwards, she resisted the urge to wipe her lips clean. The loaner had breath like rotten fish. She would have much preferred to kiss a dog.**

She resolved to do so later that evening.  


_She'll see I'm not so tough  
Just because  
I'm in love with an uptown girl  
You know I've seen her in her uptown world  
She's getting tired of her high class toys  
And all her presents from her uptown boys  
She's got a choice  
_

**The din of drunks and doxies filled the tavern. Sabine sat amongst her noble friends, trying to keep her mouth shut. Her lips were pressed together tightly, her jaw clenched. They were discussing slavery again. She raised her jack, pried her lips apart only to take a deep swill, and then she sent a silent prayer to the Goddess. **

"**Lady, might I have a moment of your time?" Mattes looked oddly stiff; he was being formal, polite. In the presence of all her knightly comrades, he had to be. Her year-mates were uptight scuts; Ainsley in particular. He liked to make a show of putting common folk in their place. Sabine bit back a scowl. She didn't truly belong to this group.**

**She stood, gathering her height and frame to their best advantage. She towered over the seated knights, though her smile dazzled and her voice was soft. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have some unfinished business with this Dog."**

**The knights grumbled as she left; half of them were determined to woo her. She tossed her head at the thought. All they wanted was a suitable and strong vessel to carry their precious unborn heirs.**

**Mattes brought her out into the street, it was dark and chill. She took a deep, refreshing gulp of cold air; it soothed her temper much better than the ale had. **

**Mattes gaze sent a tingling warmth through her body. "Now," He rumbled, "let's find somewhere to finish that business we started on Beltane." **

_Uptown girl  
You know I cant afford to buy her pearls  
But maybe someday when my ship comes in  
Shell understand what kind of guy I've been  
And then Ill win  
_

**Mattes let out a frustrated grunt as he passed through the jewelry stalls. It was fine stuff they had in Common; unfortunately, he lived in the real world—the Lower City. He touched the fire opal in his chest pocket. It was uncut, but even so…**

**Once he was off duty, once he had escaped a suspicious Goodwin, he found himself in front of Berryman's office. **

_And when she's walking  
She's looking so fine  
And when she's talking  
She'll say that she's mine  
_

**Sabine in a dress looked very different from Sabine in armor. Tunstall had spent hours trying to decide which Sabine he liked better—and he'd settled for Sabine in nothing. Yes, that was perfect. **

**But today, she wore a dress; she even rode side-saddle as her pretty mare pranced alongside the chargers. Right now, Mattes reminded himself he was just another face in the crowd, another mumper for the nobles to pity. He turned away from the parade, ready to head home. He hated it when Goodwin was right. **

**A flash of light caught his eye; he blinked as he searched for the source. Sabine was toying with her necklace, a silver chain with a very familiar fire opal. She shot him an impish grin and waved. **

_She'll say I'm not so tough  
Just because  
I'm in love  
With and uptown girl  
She's been living in her white bread world  
As long as anyone with hot blood can  
And now she's looking for a downtown man  
That's what I am_

_Uptown girl  
She's my uptown girl  
You know I'm in love  
With an uptown girl_

_My uptown girl  
Don't you know I'm in love  
With an uptown girl  
My uptown girl  
Don't you know I'm in love  
With an uptown girl  
My uptown girl_


	4. Peaceful, Easy Feeling

Song: Peaceful, easy feeling  
By: The Eagles  
Pairing: Alanna/George 

**He was a patient man. He was a VERY patient man but…even his patience had limits. Rispah and Marek tip-toed around the Rogue, holding their breath. Then, at the last possible minute, Alanna came to save them all. Shortly after she stormed into George's desert home, the air changed. It became sweeter, lighter, more hopeful. Bless Prince Jonathan and his stupidity. The Lioness had finally lost her temper and had come to her senses. **

**A near decade of patience was finally about to pay off. **

_I like the way your sparkling earrings lay,  
against your skin, it's so brown  
and I wanna sleep with you  
in the desert tonight  
with a billion stars all around  
_

**George stole glances at Alanna. She was busy, teaching healing to her Bazhir students. And George was **_**supposed**_** to be listening to the men's talk. He'd given up on that a while ago. Suddenly, Coram jabbed the new Baron in the stomach. As George 'whoomphed' the old soldier muttered, "This is exactly why business and honeymoons don't mix." **

_'cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling  
and I know you won't let me down  
'cause I'm already standing on the  
ground  
_

**Of all the lasses he'd courted, he'd never found one like Alanna. Prickly as a desert plant, she was still the rarest flower in Tortall. George shook his head. Poetry was for nobles, and a noble he was NOT. **

**Class didn't matter. George knew that. Alanna could point her pert, little, aristocratic nose as far in the air as she pleased—with her height, it'd never get far.**

_And I found out a long time ago  
what a woman can do to your soul  
Ah, but she can't take you anyway,_

_You don't already know how to go  
_

**Faithful sat and watched the Rogue curiously. The cat perched on the Rogue throne, regally surveying the crowd at the Dancing Dove. George moved, as if to shoo the cat away, but then thought better of it. **

**Instead, he pulled Alanna's familiar down into his lap and massaged the cat's ears gently. Slowly, Faithful drifted off into a catnap. His jaws stretched in a wide yawn, and sleepily, he yowled, **_**'you're a cat person, and that prince isn't. She'll figure it out someday.'**_

_And I gotta peaceful, easy feeling  
and I know you won't let me down  
'cause I'm already standing on the ground  
_

_I get this feeling I may know you  
as a lover and a friend  
but this voice keeps whispering  
in my other ear, tells me  
I may never see you again  
_

**Sometimes, it kept him up late at night. The fear that she'd never make it back to this room. She was a Lioness, his beautiful warrior woman, but she wasn't invulnerable. George fumbled around in the dark, rising from his bed. **

**He lit the lamp and called for Spot. The little Darking let out a shrill greeting; it wanted to know why the Whisper man was up at such a late hour. George smiled bleakly. "Some people count sheep. I need to count Lionesses."**

**The Darking bobbed its head in and understanding sort of way. Its middle hollowed out, and in its center, a picture of Alanna grew. **

**She was angry, yelling at her squire about botched cold remedies, and George sank back into the pillows. She was fine; although Neal might not be so lucky. **

_'cause I get a peaceful, easy feeling  
and I know you won't let me down  
'cause I'm already standing on the ground  
'cause I'm already standing...  
on the ground  
_


	5. Wake up, Little Keladry

Song: Wake Up, Little Susie

By: The Everly Brothers

Pairing: Kel/Dom

_Wake up little Susie, wake up _

_Wake up little Susie, wake up_

_We've both been sound asleep_

_Wake up little Susie and weep_

_The movie's over, it's four __a'clock_

_And were in trouble deep._

_Wake up little Susie_

_Wake up little Susie_

_Well... _

Dom opened on eye blearily. He'd had the oddest dream…he and Kel had gone hunting in the woods surrounding New Hope. They'd settled down for dinner and lost track of time. And now he felt an oddly soft, warm bundle in his arms.

Kel? Dom struggled to remember the events of last night. They'd succumbed to the warm glow of the fire, the security of their friendship and a long discussion of Yamani weaponry. He wondered who had fallen asleep first.

How'd she get into his arms? Her shoulder had been acting up again, and he offered her a massage. After that, she had just…stayed there, close to him.

Dom looked down as his friend. Her long lashes curled daintily against her freckled cheeks, her short blond hair was pleasantly tousled against his shoulder.

She wore her favorite green vest and tunic; he could see Tobe's patchwork on the bottom left corner of vest. A youngling had tugged on the cloth to hard one day, and the material had split.

Dom rubbed his eyes. This was certainly the real Kel, and not a dream. Nevertheless, a part of him felt like it was too good to be true. He drifted back to sleep.

_What are we __gonna__ tell __you're__ mama_

_What are we __gonna__ tell you're pa_

_What are we __gonna__ tell our friends when they __say :_

_Oh la __la_

_Wake up little Susie_

_Wake up little Susie_

Kel breathed deep, inhaling the scent of pine and fresh linen. She was in the middle of an innocent, Dom-scented dream. She'd often fantasized about him holding her in his strong arms…she let out an equally deep sigh. She could dream, couldn't she?

_Well I told you're mama that you'll be in by ten_

_Well Susie baby __look's__ like we goofed again_

_Wake up little Susie_

_W__ake up little Susie_

_We__gotta__ go home_

As wonderful as it was to hold Kel in his arms, Dom's sleepy thoughts drifted to the consequences. He'd promised Neal they would be back before midnight.

Light tickled his eyelids. Dom's blue eyes snapped open. The sun had risen. Meathead was going to kill him.

_Wake up little Susie, wake up_

_Wake up little Susie, wake up_

_The__ movie wasn't so hot_

_It didn't have much of a plot_

_We fell asleep, our goose is cooked_

_Our reputation is shot_

_Wake up little Susie_

_Wake up little Susie_

_Well..._

"KEL!" In the eight years they'd known each other, Kel had never heard Dom panic. He was panicking now. "KEL! We've missed the dawn!"

'_So?_' She thought sleepily. _'There will be another in less than twenty four hours._' Then her brain caught up with the rest of her. By Mithros's ivory-colored loincloth! She cursed.

"This was never my idea." She muttered. She fumbled as she tried to put her boots back on. The coals of their fire had long grown cold. She shivered.

"Gods, they'll come looking for us. A search party…" Dom ran his hands through his thick, dark hair.

Kel tucked away a smile. It was almost worth it, just to watch Dom's cool exterior crack like a dropped vase.

**a/n****: this is a fun, peppy song from like, the fifties. I know ****Kel's**** name isn't Susie, they didn't have movie theatres in ****Tortall**** etc. but I just thought it would be funny to juxtapose the song with the scene.**

By request: The Epilogue (added 9/5/07)

A bedraggled Kel and Dom were found by a refugee patrol. The men respected Kel too much to say anything aloud, but there were some barely covered grins. As they topped the rise before the fief, Kel's sharp eyes picked out a familiar lanky figure pacing outside the gates. His emerald green eyes were feverish, and perhaps furious. The scouting party gave the nobles some relative privacy as the scouts returned to the stables.

Kel let Dom do the talking for a while. Oddly enough, she felt Yamani calm on the inside. No masks required, she felt peaceful and unruffled by the events of the morning. She belatedly remembered to tune back into the conversation.

"How many Hillman?" Neal repeated skeptically.

Dom ran his fingers through his thick black hair. His eyes moved quickly, he shifted his weight frequently. "Only five. Mindelan and I took care of them. We waited out the night to make sure there weren't any more."

Neal raised an eyebrow. Kel was suspiciously silent; her hands were folded neatly behind her back.

Neal returned his gaze to Dom. "Since when do you refer to Kel as Mindelan…_Masbolle_?" Neal asked.

Both parties blushed and studied the ground. When Kel finally dared look up, she saw a dangerous gleam in Neal's eye. Irritably, she thought it was a dammed inconvenient time for him to become perceptive.

"Meathead…." She warned.

"What, my chivalrous lady knight? Or perhaps, not so chivalrous, depending on your definition. I believe lying to a friend and spending the night—

"It was my fault." Dom jumped it anxiously. "And it's not what you think, Neal."

The knight of Queenscove blinked and gaped, stunned to be called by his _actual_ name. Slowly, his expression returned to the very spirit of mischief. "Don't think you can distract me," he crowed, "and I'm not going to forget this anytime soon. I am a scholar—and as such—I am gifted with a superb memory. I can recall---

"Murdon Fielding, the Sage of Cria, once wrote, 'squire, give thy Queen thy purest love. Let her be the living emblem of the power of the Goddess. Her beauteous countenance will be thy guide, her favor and thanks your payment…" Kel's voice trailed off as both men were staring at her. She could almost hear their thoughts. 'Kel knew poetry? Sappy, lovey poetry?'

"You're not the only one with a good memory, Meathead." Kel explained evenly. "I seem to recall a certain Queenscove healer quoting Feilding as he tried to express his undying love for the Queen. If I try, I think I might be able to recall some of this healer's original work, say for someone like….Daine? I'm sure Yuki—

"There were five. You took care of them. End of story." Neal backed away slowly. "I'll write up some paperwork. I think I'll go straighten up that pigsty you call an office. And then I might be in the healers' tent for a while, to take care of Stefan's bowel problems. No reason for you to visit." He spun smartly on his heel and strode back toward the buildings.

Kel and Dom looked at each other, grinning. They grasped hands, and Kel pulled Dom in a little closer. Maybe it was her newfound sense of peace which made her feel so bold. Whatever the reason, she pulled Dom's ear close to her lips, and she whispered, "Next time, bring a bedroll."

If she had looked behind her as she walked away, she would've noticed that Dom's handsome face turned a very unusual shade of pink.


	6. Something to talk about

Song: Something to Talk About

By: Bonnie Raitt

Pairing: Raoul/Buri

**A/N: Ever wonder what happened when Buri 'escorted' Raoul to those parties? This sums it up, nice and fluffy.**

Raoul scribbled a quick note to Buri. Because Kel was watching, he kept his nerves tightly concealed. He hadn't asked a woman on a "date" in nearly a decade. What if she said no? Raoul's large hand accidentally snapped the quill in two. Wordlessly, Kel handed him another. He muttered something about too much paper work. It made his hands cramp—and writing _this_ made his heart stutter.

_Ooh, ooh, ooh,_

_People are talkin', talkin' 'bout people,_

_I hear them whisper, you won't believe it._

_They think we're lovers kept under cover,_

_I just ignore it but they keep sayin' we..._

_Laugh just a little too loud,_

_Stand just a little too close,_

_We stare just a little too long._

_Maybe they're seein', somethin' we don't darlin'._

They were there to chaperone. Raoul and Buri stuck to the back of the room, chatting as they watched the young royals. The library discussions were a neutral zone, a place for the future monarchs to talk without half the court hanging on to their every move.

The adults weren't paying attention to their charges. Buri's eyes sparkled as Raoul related his tale about the giantess. She choked on a giggle—SHE ALMOST GIGGLED! She buried her lips in a glass of wine, embarrassed. Slowly, Buri lowered the drink. Maybe she should cut back on the stuff; it seemed to be making her woozy.

8

The fire cast a warm, soothing glow on the room. She watched the flames flicker as her mind wandered. Raoul had gone off to check on Kel's griffin. Gradually, Buri felt her muscles uncoil like a ball of yarn. She sucked in a deep breath, content as a cat full of cream.

How long did the young folk plan to stay up? She had training tomorrow at dawn; and a woman of her age needed _some_ sleep. Her loose shoulders were slowly slipping across the wall panels. They hit something solid and warm. She jumped and apologized; she didn't realize Raoul had returned.

It must have been exhaustion. Throughout the night, her shoulders habitually slid closer and closer to Raoul. After a time, exhaustion seemed to overcome him as well. Their shoulders bumped somewhere in the middle of the wall, and neither commander had the energy, nor the will, to pull away.

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about_

_How about love?_

Buri held her head high as she clutched Raoul's arm. Damn their friendship; if one more Aunt made subtle inquiries about Buri's family lineage…

Raoul seemed to be having an even worse time. Great Aunt Sebila of Disart had given him the same lecture three times already, and at full bellow. Raoul's ears had turned bright pink, and they were evolving into a nice, ruddy shade of crimson.

Buri rolled her eyes. Time for some emergency tactics. As his father approached, she staggered away from her escort and placed a trembling hand on her forehead. She blinked rapidly, as though disoriented. "Excuse me." She said breathlessly, "all this warm air is…I'm feeling a little…faint. If you'll excuse--"

"No. If you're not feeling well, you shouldn't wander off alone." There was a very convincing note of concern in Raoul's voice. "Let's go for a walk in the gardens; fresh air does wonders for the body." Raoul nodded briefly to his sire. "I wish I could stay and talk, father, but it would be churlish of me to neglect my guest."

Buri let out a squeak of surprise when Raoul tucked his huge arms behind her knees and lifted her into his arms. He swiftly carried her out of the room and deposited her in the far corner of the gardens.

"You alright?" He whispered.

Buri laughed heartily and smacked him playfully on the arm. "You big loon, it was all an act to get you away." Now she was really breathless. "Worked a lot better than I intended."

"Oh." A sheepish grin grew on his wide face. He ran his fingers through his hair, upsetting the careful comb lines.

Shaking her head, she reached up to re-set his hair. She had to stand on tip-toe; and even then, Raoul had to bend down so she could reach. Once she was satisfied with her work, she pulled away. Raoul looked up, and their dark eyes met. Their faces were only inches apart.

"Thank you." His voice was low and hoarse. His close-cropped beard grazed her chin as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. When he pulled away, his cheeks matched the ruddy crimson color of his ears.

_I feel so foolish, I never noticed_

_You act so nervous, could you be fallin' for me?_

_It took the rumor to make me wonder,_

_Now I'm convinced that I'm goin' under._

_Thinkin' 'bout you every day,_

_Dreamin' 'bout you every night._

_I'm hopin' that you feel the same way,_

_Now that we know it, let's really show it darlin'._

In her guest quarters, Buri studied her reflection. She had her best outfit on tonight. The dress was a crimson silk, with a crinkled gold silk trim. The colors made her dark skin seem to glow. She smiled, flashing her sharp, white teeth. Carefully, she added a bit of kohl to her eyes and the smallest dab of powder to her cheeks.

There was a knock on her door and Buri stumbled across the room. She'd even put on shoes with heels for tonight. She hoped the added height would make her seem less silly as she stood next to the towering Raoul. And maybe—just maybe—she wanted to be able to reach his lips, should they stumble under any mistletoe.

The pounding on her door was growing more fervent. "I'm coming!" She shouted. It wasn't her fault the Goldenlake guest room was so large. When she finally pulled open the door, she had to dodge Raoul's hammering fist.

She folded her arms and studied him as one would study an inpatient child. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something.

His jaw opened, but no sound came out.

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

_A little mystery to figure out_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about_

_How about love?_

They rode back together; Raoul wanted to escape his family as soon as possible, and Buri wouldn't let him go by himself. If word of their travel arrangements reached Corus, they could both kiss their remaining reputations goodbye. An unmarried man traveling alone with an unmarried woman was utterly dishonorable.

Both commanders were silent. Raoul was thinking heavily about the advice he'd given Kel. The world wasn't fair, that's what it boiled down to. He had no intention of doing anything dishonorable; he didn't play fast and loose with people. He hoped Buri understood that. It was making his attraction to her that much more difficult to bear. He wondered if she noticed that the Goldenlake heir, the "feckless gawp of an overage boy" was falling in love with her.

They stopped to make camp. Buri gathered firewood and Raoul set about pitching the tents. He finished the first tent and found he had no materials left for a second. He cursed the idiot who packed their bags. It appeared he'd be spending a midwinter night outside.

Buri returned with firewood. In the midst of his cursing, it took him a moment to register her presence. The last curse—something about Gallan horse dung—died on his lips.

"There's. Only. One. Tent." He explained painfully, blushing.

Buri's grin was lazy and slightly smug. "You said you wanted to travel light." She let the silence hang for a moment. She watched as his expressions ranged from confused to annoyed, and finally to hopeful. He still wasn't sure, the big, silly, and hopelessly honorable man that he was. She took pity on him. "You'll soon find there's only one bedroll too."

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about babe,_

_A little mystery to figure out._

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about,_

_How about love? Ooh..._

_Listen to 'em baby_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

_A little mystery won't hurt 'em_

_(Somethin' to talk about)_

Oh, for years, she'd laughed whenever Alanna and Thayet discussed men-folk. For years, she'd figured she wasn't the type for love. Now, as she curled next to him, she wondered how she'd survived so long without it.

_Let's give 'em somethin' to talk_

_How about our love, love, love, love_

_Whoowhoo mmmm hey oohh whoowhoo_

_About love, love, love, love_

_How about they talk about it? uh huh_

_Talk about love..._

**A/N: Sorry this was so long in the making. I'll try to update Beka's Cat within the week. Oh, and I dunno if Tortall has mistletoe, or if they'd use it the way christians do at x-mas, but just roll with the idea, please.  
**


	7. My Kind of Woman

Song: That's My Kind Of Woman Lyrics  
Artist:George Strait  
Pairing: Onua/ Sarge

_She can drive a truck and rope and ride  
She feels right at home right by my side  
That's my kind of woman  
That's my cup of tea  
That's my kind of woman  
The one I want for me  
_

**Sarge stabled Ox; they'd had a long day. The big horse whinnied and nosed Sarge's shirt. Grinning, he pulled out the apple he'd been hiding.**

**"You old softie; you've spoiled him." Onua appeared in the next stall, a pitchfork in one hand. She leaned against the wall between them. "I had to get him new shoes last week, and he wouldn't budge until I gave him a sugar lump." Her gray green eyes twinkled. "I'd better not catch you spoiling the trainees." She turned back to mucking out the stall.**

**Sarge sidled out of Ox's stall, dodging the hay Onua tossed into the wheelbarrow. "My lamb, I plan to have those trainees eating out of my patty-paws." He informed her gravely.**

**She snorted, like a pony. Tahoi came bounding in, baying like a hound. Several horses rolled back their ears and stamped nervously. "And here's my ox." Onua said affectionately. Tahoi, tail wagging, sat down and perked his ears forward. He let out a small, pathetic whimper. Onua sighed and tossed him a piece of jerky. She looked up and caught the smug expression on Sarge's face. "Not a word out of you." She warned.**

**Sarge held up his hands defensively. "Let he who has never sinned throw the first treat." Onua lunged at him. Instead of dodging, he let her run straight into his chest. He was unmoved by her tackle, but his big arms wrapped around her in a smothering bear hug. She pushed away, just far enough so that she could look into his eyes. He was smiling, all his white teeth flashed. Instead of his usual wicked grin, there was something soft and inviting about the way his lips curled.**

**Tahoi growled. Sarge glanced down at the dog, then back up at Onua. Slowly, he backed away. Tahoi stepped between Sarge and Onua and the big greyhound sat protectively on her feet. He let out a low "woof" as a warning.**

**Sarge gave Onua one last, unusual look before heading out of the stables. Onua reached over and patted Ox on the shoulder. "I like a man who likes horses." She admitted quietly. Tahoi let out a sharp bark, and she tossed him another piece of jerky.**

_She's got a pair of boots that she just loves  
And like me, likes Gus from Lonesome Dove  
That's my kind of woman  
That's me to a "T"  
That's my kind of woman  
The one I want for me  
_

**"What'll ye have?" The barkeep asked.**

**"Hard cider, hot, with spice." Onua replied. He nodded respectfully and went to fill her tankard.**

**"Make that two jacks." Sarge called as he pulled up a stool next to hers. She raised an eyebrow. "You ordered my drink." He accused.**

**Onua smiled. "Well, then I suppose you'll be paying for '_your'_ drink." She teased.**

**The barkeep returned with their mugs. Onua and Sarge each lifted their respective tankards. "To a good drink." Onua declared.**

**"To good company." Sarge rumbled.**

**Onua took a deep sip of her cider, and her eyes wandered across the man sitting next to her. He was as beautiful and powerful as a bear; while his dark eyes glittered with intelligence. And, if nothing else, he had good taste.**

_After all I've seen and all I've done  
I know somewhere there is someone  
Who'll look my way and say  
I want that one  
That's my kind of woman  
That's me to a "T"  
_

**Onua glanced at the scars on Sarge's wrists. She knew his story; he'd shared the gory details of his past after one too many cups of hard cider. But she'd yet to share hers. Onua's scars were mercifully hidden by her tunic and long hair; and the emotional scars were buried much deeper.**

**The dinner he'd prepared looked wonderful. Her favorite noodles and K'miri sauce, roast chicken and a bottle of spiced cider. Her smile wobbled on her lips; she wanted so badly to enjoy this.**

**Sarge's touch sent shivers through her veins, but there were two distinct types. First, the pleasant fizzes of warmth--however, those were coupled by the sparks and cold terror of memory. She loved him; but she had loved her husband too.**

**She swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled away. "Sarge…" her voice cracked. "I'm…"**

**"I understand." He said quietly. He sat back and rationed out two plates of noodles. She smile was still weak, but her hands were steady as she reached for the plate. Their fingers brushed against each other. Deliberately, she held on a moment longer. She would get through this, one small step at a time.**

_No matter what she wears she turns my head  
On rainy days, I can't pry her out of bed  
Lord, I know the order's pretty tall  
But find me and that'll be all  
_

**"Trainees, turn out!" Sarge voice cascaded through the walls of the barracks like a tidal wave on the shore. Onua took one look out her window and buried her head under her pillow. Rain. Not _just _rain, it was hailing outside.**

**Against her better judgment, she forced herself out of bed and over to the mirror. She muttered something about her wages as she splashed water on her face and neck. She didn't get paid enough for this.**

**"Trainees!" Sarge bellowed again. He sounded as if he were right outside her door.**

**Onua stomped out her room and swung the door open. She yelled down the stairs, "We heard you the first time, Mithros curse it! People in Carthak are wondering where the rain is to accompany that thunder." Several trainee girls giggled and Onua silenced them with a god-awful stare.**

**"I forgot." Sarge grinned as he stared up at her. "You're a bear in the morning. I'll leave you in your den; but trainees…TURN OUT!" The girls all jumped, straightened, and scurried off to breakfast.**

**"You enjoy this too much." She grumbled.**

**Sarge turned and walked away, silently agreeing with her. The sight of Onua, her hair tousled from sleep, her lithe body concealed only by a thin nightdress…some days, he truly loved his job.**

_That's my kind of woman  
That's me to a "T"  
That's my kind of woman  
The girl I want for me  
_

**She hated the spring. Hillman and desperate mercenaries always came out in full force this time of year; they were hungry and eager for prey. Onua was with the first rider group when the squad got a call from a Treebond village.**

**There were fifty raiders for thirty Riders. After a half hour of fighting, it seemed the odds were almost even. Grimly, Onua fired her crossbow at the nearest Hillman.**

**"Onua!" Buri cried. "We need you, at the front. Sarge—**

**That was all Onua heard. She spurred her pony through the thick of the battle; her sword sliced through the neck of a raider that got too close. Her mount stomped over a Hillman, breaking the man's spine. Onua let out a savage yell, startling another opponent. She snarled as she cut him down.**

**"Here! Here! To me!" Evin's horse pranced defensively around a corpse. Ox stood beside him, rearing and pawing the air. As she got closer, she saw the fallen body was Sarge. She stifled a whimper and threw herself off her mount.**

**"He's alive—barely." Evin grunted as he threw a knife into the back of Scanran mercenary.**

**Onua nodded numbly as her gift poured over Sarge. He had a large gash along his side, there was a growing bruise on his scalp, and an arrow protruded from his right shoulder.**

**"The arrow isn't too deep, his breastplate slowed it. It's the side wound…" Evin trailed off as he locked blades with another mounted opponent. Ox darted in to help, kicking the hillman's mount in the left flank. The rider went down and Evin took care of the rest.**

**"Sarge, wake up!" Onua commanded. "Damn you, you're not allowed to die yet." His pulse was slow and irregular. She bit her lip and dug deep into her magical reserves; she'd use her life force if necessary.**

**Ox nudged her and Onua felt a sudden spur of energy. She didn't have time to wonder at the sensation; she immediately re-directed the magic into Sarge. His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. Tears of relief poured down her face. Onua bent down and kissed him, hard.**

**Sarge's large hand slid gently up her arm, massaging her quivering shoulder. "Marry me." He breathed. His hand moved to wipe away the tears flowing down her cheeks. She caught the hand and held it in her own.**

**"Until death do us part." She promised. "And that won't be today." She added grimly. "Lie still, and don't fight this."**

**Sarge nodded wearily and his head sank back to the ground. Onua's hands slid over the wound and she went back to work.**

_That's my kind of woman  
The girl I want for me  
She can drive a truck and rope and ride_

**a/n:** Tahoi means 'Ox' in K'mir. I think those two (Onua/Sarge) are so perfect for each other; they even name their animals the same thing. This is probably my favorite song fic (of this series) so far.


	8. She's tuff, that Thayet

**Band: Fabulous Thunderbirds  
Song: She's tuff  
Pairing: Jon/Thayet**

_You oughta see my baby when she walk down the street  
Upsettin' everybody she meet  
She's twenty-three in the waist, thirty-eight in the hips  
She got long black wavy hair and ruby-red lips  
_

Thayet on the Grand Progress was a grand thing to watch. She smiled waved, and looked every inch a queen. People—well, men at least—fell in love with her at first sight. Jon glanced sideways at his wife, drinking in her incredible beauty.

A giggling child ran toward her horse. Before Jon could react, Thayet leaned precariously sideways in the saddle, reached out, and grabbed the youngster before he got in the way of the warrior's chargers. Folk clapped, and Thayet smiled breathlessly, embarrassed.

She dismounted and held the boy before the crowd. A young woman, blushing furiously, pushed her way into the street. She curtsied deeply and opened her arms. The toddler shrieked and babbled merrily as he bounced back to his mother's arms.

Thayet remounted and patted her mare's neck. "Now, that's not something we normally cover in Rider training." She confessed to the onlookers. "But I've found it's a useful trick to know, since I've two younglings of my own." The mothers in the crowd grinned appreciatively.

Jon smiled. She had the people wrapped around her delicate, deceptively strong pinkie.

_Oh she's tuff  
Oooo, she's tuff  
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff  
And that's tuff enuff_

The only imperfect feature Thayet possessed was her nose (it was too large to be fashionable). Now it was broken to boot. She mopped away the blood, simultaneously brushing off the dozen healers that flocked to her. "I'm fine." She growled. Her voice was a nasally whine. She winced.

Where'd they all come from? She'd been practicing with the Riders. It wasn't as if she was doing anything dangerous; it was just standard training with the new recruits. One poor trainee had caught the queen off-guard. _Serves me right_. Thayet thought with grim good humor.

The rest was history—or at least, it was about to become palace gossip. Thayet slapped away the hands of Duke Baird. "I _said_—

"Let him heal you." Jon's calm command drifted through the courtyard as he appeared over her shoulder. His voice allowed no dissent. She spun around, ready to knock him on him on his arse.

His own sapphire gift slid over her, cool and refreshing. Her temper cooled a dozen degrees. Damn him, he was good at that. Her shoulders relaxed, her rebellious streak was almost smothered as Jon's cooling magic flowing through her.

"This may hurt." Duke Baird said apologetically. 'Hurt' was not the word Thayet chose to describe the sensation. She used multiple, colorful, and probably inappropriate terms to describe the feeling of grating cartilage and explosion of pressure in her sinuses.

She spluttered curses for a moment, and then released the breath she'd been holding. _Now_ it felt better. She looked up at her husband's smug grin. He was so proud; he wore his special, 'I am king, I handled the situation perfectly, everyone loves me' smile. He didn't stop to think that maybe Thayet wanted to handle the situation by herself, that maybe she wanted to let the wound heal on its own. Jon hadn't given her a chance to use her voice. He went through periods like this; and his attitude had been building since "he" won the war against Scanra. Thayet had allowed him bask in the glory for a bit, but was too much. _She _had the right to say what happened to her body--and no one else.

She clocked him, and was rewarded when she heard a satisfying crack. Blood trickled down Jonathan's fine tunic. "Remember that you're not the only one who gives commands around here." She murmured sweetly.

Duke Baird sighed and stepped toward the King. "This may hurt." The healer warned.

_She walk past a clock, the clock won't tell time  
She walk through the college, professor lose his mind  
_

Lindhall was not prepared for his monthly meeting with the Queen. His office was a mess, the turtle was sick; his clothes were dirty—at least Bonedancer was occupied. The undead, prehistoric creature was busy chewing through the professor's most expensive leather belt. And that was the least of Lindhall's worries.

There was a knock on his door. Stifling a groan, Lindhall trotted across the room and opened the door to his office. King Jonathan stood outside, his hands folded neatly in front of him. Lindhall breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good, it's just you." The mage murmured.

Jon choked. After a moment, he laughed. "Let me guess, you were expecting my wife?"

Blushing, Lindhall nodded.

_Cause she's tuff  
Oooo, she's tuff  
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff  
And that's tuff enuff  
_

Jon dreaded this time of the month. Alanna and Thayet were on the same "calendar". Individually, each woman was a terror; together, they were a force of nature. At least today, the women were aiming for each other's throats.

Thayet was a blur of baby blue linen; she twirled, lunged, parried in one constant, fluid motion. Her long glaive gave her added reach—something that Alanna hated.

The Lioness growled and sidestepped, her sword sliced through empty air. Thayet let out a triumphant cry. With a double handed sweep and twist, Thayet disarmed the nation's champion. Jon stood and clapped loudly…at least, until he saw the look on Alanna's face.

He paled and hurriedly moved close to his wife. Thayet smiled, grabbed the front of his tunic, and pulled him down for a long, dramatic kiss. Winning always put her in a good mood.

Jon stepped back from the kiss, taking a moment to study his wife. Her skin sparkled with sweat; if anyone could make perspiration look attractive, it was Thayet. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes over-bright. She swept back a lock of her sable hair.

Jon leaned down to kiss her again. It was good to have a wife who stood toe-to-toe with Lionesses. He could sleep much easier at night—provided he was on Thayet's good side.

_The president said to my baby, come here, sweetheart  
You can stop a world war even before it start  
We know the enemy won't pull the trigger  
When they walk out on the front line and they see your fine figure  
_

Thayet was a pearl among pebbles. And it wasn't because of the expensive dress she wore, nor the crown sitting on her head; it was because she _glowed_. From the inside out, she radiated majesty.

This time, Jon remembered to close his mouth. He glanced over at Tyra's dignitary. If Ivanhoff's jaw sunk any lower, his beard would be mopping the dining hall floor. Jon smiled happily. _She's mine_.

Jon ruled a country, he owned a mystical diamond and he had acquired an astounding personal fortune. Nevertheless, as he looked at Thayet, he knew what he valued most.

_Cause you tuff  
Oooo, she's tuff  
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff  
And that's tuff enuff  
_

Thayet watched her husband in the mirror of her dressing table. She fiddled with her hair, but her mind was on the man standing behind her. He was a gorgeous figure of a man. Thayet knew it, and unfortunately_, he_ knew it. Still, she liked to tease him.

"Is that a gray hair, dear?" She stood plucked an imaginary hair off his scalp. Jon lunged toward the mirror.

"Where? Did you get it?" Jon's fingers nimbly trickled through his black mane. Thayet laughed. "That isn't funny." He grunted. "Remember this day when you find _your_ first gray hair."

Thayet smiled, mock-sadly. "Darling, I've been growing gray hairs for years now; at least I have the sense to dye them."

Jon stared at his wife in shock. "We're starting to grow old together." He said, horrified. "I never imagined we'd make it this far." He confessed.

Thayet hugged his broad shoulders reassuringly. "We're not dead yet." She informed him. Her kiss sent fire through his veins; it made him feel at least ten years younger. Their morning appointments could wait. He gathered his queen up into his arms and enjoyed the company of the woman who was his until death did them part. Even then, Jon still wasn't sure he'd be able to let her go.

_  
And that's tuff enuff  
And that's tuff enuff  
And that's tuff enuff_

**a/n: Sorry if the flashes seemed a little shallow; I try to stay in sync with the ideas presented by the lyrics…and well, this song is kinda about looks. Oh yeah, the Lindhall thing was totally random; just popped into my head when I read the lyric above it. I'm NOT advocating Lindhall/Thayet or anything, the scene was just meant to show the effect Thayet has on even the most absent-minded men . I wrote this chapter because someone suggested a Jon/Thayet pairing in a review (and Shinko/Roald will be coming soon). If there is someone you'd like to see paired off, let me know.**


	9. You make me feel like dancing, Cricket

**Song: You make me feel like dancing  
Artist: Leo Sayer  
Pairing: Roald/Shinko **

Cricket looked on fearfully as Kel pointed out Roald's previous lady "friends." Each woman was curvy, plump, and many were blond and dimpled. Shinko knew herself to be skinny, muscular, and dark-haired, not at all like these colorful and meaty pheasants.

"Don't worry." Kel reassured her. "None of them lasted very long. Roald hates balls almost as much as milord; and he can't stand air-headed Dani." Kel used the Yamani word for 'good for nothing' or 'parasite.'

"But will he like me?" Shinko breathed.

"Only one way to find out." Kel said, matter-of-factly.

_You've got a cute way of talking  
You got the better of me  
Just snap your fingers and I'm walking  
Like a dog hanging on your lead  
I'm in a spin you know  
Shaking on a string you know  
_

Roald was intrigued from the moment he saw Shinkokami's lady in waiting. For years, he'd dreaded the prospect of marrying for politics, but he had to admit, the Yamanis had style.

The next night, SHE glided in, all silk and smooth, confident without being brash. Her face was composed, but he could see there was some anxiety behind her eyes. He'd met Yamani dignitaries before, but he'd never seen _anyone_ like her. He felt as if he were ten feet tall and clumsy; he ducked down and studied his plate, praying she wasn't going to talk to him now.

What would he say? He was a mess; he'd rushed through his bath before dinner—there could be dirt behind his ears! He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. She was too beautiful. If he weren't a prince, she'd never consider a man like him. Why hadn't Kel warned him?

Oh no, she was talking to Wyldon. Roald couldn't make out the words, but her soft voice managed to drift across the mess. She spoke carefully; her tone almost clipped. Nevertheless, it was musical. _His_ tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. He pushed away his plate and rose, stumbled out of the mess hall. He mumbled something to Cleon and Neal about the bathroom and disappeared.

He made his way blindly to back to his room, where he placed trembling hands in the water basin. He splashed his face liberally with water, scrubbed his ears mercilessly, and studied himself in the mirror.

The face he saw closely resembled his fathers. Saphhire blue eyes, dark curled hair. Not an entirely hopeless case. He took a deep breath. He was a prince. Fear was not becoming to a ruler.

Purposefully, he strode back the mess hall, leaving his doubts as far behind him as possible.

_You make me feel like dancing  
I'm gonna dance the night away  
You make me feel like dancing  
I'm gonna dance the night away  
You make feel like dancing  
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away  
I feel like dancing dancing ahhh  
_

Shinko tucked her hands into her kimono, sending silent prayers to the Goddess as she approached her seat at the banquet. He was already seated, and he chatted with a noble on his left. As she approached, a lanky, emerald-eyed server reached over tugged the prince's tunic, gesturing in her direction. She bowed slightly as eyes turned to look at her. To her surprise, Roald stood and gave her proper Yamani bow.

They faced each other, each unsure how to proceed. Roald was first to break the silence. "I'm sure someone's told you my name by now; if not, I would be honored if you called me just 'Roald.' All my friends do." He added.

Shinko inclined her neck gracefully. "If we are to be friends, then you must call me Cricket."

She offered her hand, like a proper Tortallan, and he kissed it. There was a palpable tension between them; Roald shifted his weight nervously and Shinko desperately tried to come up with an appropriate conversation starter. The awkward silence stretched on.

"Roald? Cricket? Milord would like to invite you to a small party in the library later this evening." Kel appeared at Shino's elbow.

Kel kept her face impassive as both royals stared at her suspiciously.

_Quarter to four in the morning  
I aint feeling tired no no no no no  
Just hold me tight and leave on the light  
Cause I dont want to go home  
_

"Keladry-san took down a mounted man with her glaive at the age of _ten_?" Shinko pulled out her fan. "That sounds like her." Cricket couldn't keep the sparkle out of her eye.

Roald sat back in his chair, nodding knowingly. "The boys and I watched from a safe distance." He added, self-depreciatingly.

Shinko boldly reached out and smacked him lightly with her fan. "You had another job to do." She reminded him sternly. "We do not choose our talents. We choose _where _to use them, and what to use them for."

"Talents." Roald couldn't keep the scorn out of his voice. "There is no talent in being born a prince." He looked off into the distance, idly tracing a finger over the arm of his chair.

Shinko shook her head. "I meant, as a mage." She corrected softly. His face changed dramatically. His gaze returned to her; his brow softened, his cheeks lifted into a smile. She studied Roald by the firelight. He was handsome, in a foreign sort of way. He spoke frankly, and with passion. She found that she enjoyed listening to him. However, the intensity of his gaze was unsettling; it made her feel warm.

Shinko waved her fan a little faster.

_You put a spell on me  
I'm right where you want me to be  
You take me higher  
I'm gonna catch on fire cause  
_

Balls in Tortall were very different from those at home. Shinko drank in her surroundings. It was one thing to practice the Tortall dance; it was another to watch a room full of people perform the dance in sync. Shinko felt half-naked in her Tortall dress; the neckline was scandalously low, the fabric was soft and loose around her legs.

"Shinkokami?" Roald's voice was timid. It was about time he asked her to dance. She allowed herself to smile. It was a horrid breach of Yamani protocol; but Lalasa said the men folk here thought that smiles were encouraging.

Yuki saw her monarch's lips twitch. The Yamani Lady-in-waiting instantly whipped out her fan and offered it to her mistress. Shinko shook her head minutely and her friend stepped away, catching on. Yuki grabbed Neal's elbow and escorted him to dance floor.

Shinko watched them disappear into the crowd. She held in a small sigh of appreciation. Roald straightened and held out his arms. Shinko daintily placed one hand on his shoulder as she slipped her other hand in his.

He almost carried her across the dance floor; she could feel the muscles bunching in his shoulders, but he held her as gently as he would a small bird. She focused on following his steps; out of habit, her cool courtiers' mask slid firmly back into place.

_You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance the night away  
You make me feel like dancing Im gonna dance my life away  
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away  
I feel like dancing dancing ahhh  
_

The dance ended; Roald's face was flushed. From what? He was a knight, surely the dance hadn't exhausted him so quickly!

"Would you like to go for a walk in the gardens? I believe I would enjoy the fresh air." Shinko suggested.

Roald nodded and led her outside. The trees were very different here; the gardens pathways were lined with unfamiliar plants.

The pair walked in silence; Shinko tried study the flowers in the dim torchlight. Her eyes narrowed over a patch of…orchids?

She stopped. Roald halted beside her, frowning. "Something wrong?" He asked.

"No; I was simply surprised to see orchids in your garden." She pointed to the flowers. "They _are_ orchids, aren't they?" She added quickly. She prayed Sakuyo was not about to laugh.

He leaned over and touched the stem of the plant gently. "Yes. They've been a pet project of mine; Baron Piers gave me several bulbs as a midwinter gift. The gardeners take care of them when I'm away—which isn't very often, these days. Some say that I'm about as green as these flowers." He added softly, almost to himself.

There was a brief, quiet moment, then he looked up at her. "Was I really a terrible dance partner?" He asked frankly.

Shinko blinked. "Pardon me?" She asked.

"Your face was so smooth, you looked bored and disinterested. I understand—

"I was entirely engaged in the dance, I assure you. You are a strong and graceful partner; I was worried I was going to miss a step." She smiled again. "I should be asking you the same question."

He stood and searched her eyes. She was happy, and certainly not bored by the stiff, green knight. Roald took a step closer; his hand reached out to caress her face gently, reverently. Her smile parted as her head tilted up to receive his kiss.

_You really slipped me a potion  
I cant get off of the floor  
All this perpetual motion  
You gotta give me some more  
You gotta give me some more  
_

Shinko studied her reflection in the small pond. She found this quiet patch of forest during a stag hunt; now she came here for meditation. In this space, she was finally alone. She picked up a pebble; her fingertips explored the rock's grainy surface. She discarded it and picked up a different stone.

The new rock was smoother, a better choice. She flicked it expertly, and it skipped across the surface of the water. Five times. A record.

She head a twig snap behind her. Shinko whirled, drawing a knife out of her obi and setting her guard. She relaxed when she identified the source of the noise.

"Roald. What brings you out here?" She asked, lowering her guard. She bowed hastily, embarrassed. He had caught her doing two unwomanly things. Throwing stones and wielding a weapon.

"I…I often come here to be alone." He murmured. He blushed and Shinko felt her heart warm to him. He bent down to pick up a rock. He flicked his strong wrist, and the rock soared across the water. It bounced once before sinking to the bottom of the pool. He groaned. "They never teach us anything _useful_ in etiquette class." He complained. "Now I've just made a fool of myself by showing my abysmal rock skipping skills." He smiled ironically.

Shinko giggled aloud. "My brothers taught me when I was very young, but they made it clear it was unladylike. I took it personally and resolved to be the best rock skipper in the whole family. I practiced whenever I was alone by the water."

"Would you teach me?" He asked.

Shinko bowed. "It would be my pleasure. We can have your first lesson right now."

_And if youll let me stay well dance our lives away  
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away  
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away  
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away  
You make me feel like dancing_

**A/N: The biggest problem I had with this pairing was finding an appropriate song. I think Neal/Yuki will be next on the agenda. I'm interested in a possible Tobe/Loey, and I have two songs selected for eventual Daine/Numair and Kaddar/Kally. Please review, let me know what you want. **


	10. Yuki's got a way

**Song: She's Got a Way**

**Artist: Billy Joel**

**Pairing: Yuki/Neal**

_She's got a way about her_

_I don't know what it is_

_But__ I know that I can't live without her_

Neal's life was miserable, but uncomplicated. He tolerated his year mates, the Stump, squiredom with the Lioness, and he ate his vegetables when Kel pestered him to do so. He escaped this tyranny through romance, poetry and daydreams.

For years, it was just that. Daydreams. Insubstantial and easily abandoned. Then one fateful day, the Yamani dignitaries arrived. SHE floated in, all wrapped in silk and more beautiful than the first blossom of spring. Her orange gown swished softly as she gracefully crossed the floor. Brown slippers had never looked so good.

Neal had seen beautiful women before. Thayet, Daine, and a whole score of court ladies. But something about this one was different. Neal frowned to himself. There was an odd sensation growing in his stomach.

He reluctantly speared another piece of broccoli with his fork. Just his luck. A beautiful, exotic woman showed up in his life, and Kel's damn vegetables were giving him a stomachache.

_She's got a way of __pleasin_

_I don't know why it is_

_But__ there doesn't have to be a reason_

_Anyway…_

"I'm a man, I'll have you know—

Neal bent in two as Kel elbowed him in the stomach. At least he managed not to squawk like he usually did. Nevertheless, his foolishness made the straight-faced Yamani giggle behind her fan.

To his surprise, it felt _good_ to make Yuki laugh. His whole body warmed and tingled. Kel spouted instructions, being the little tactician that she was, and the squires scattered to do as she bid.

Neal made his way to the study, enthused by the thought that Yuki would be there too.

He chatted with her, struck up a polite conversation. Yuki was wickedly clever; her eyes crinkled with concealed mirth. She no longer wore the powders and paints of the Yamani; her skin was a warm golden-brown.

Neal felt his heart catch in his throat. This was a golden opportunity. He could ask her to the mages party, he could ask if she wanted him to escort. He kept his voice aloof, calm.

"Would you like to go to the mages party?" He asked casually.

Yuki snapped her fan shut and gave him a small, polite bow. "I would be honored." She smiled and held out her hand.

_She's got a smile that heals me_

_I don't know what it is_

_But__ I have to laugh when she reveals me_

Kel and the Yamani ladies were tossing a fan around a circle. Neal grinned. He rarely saw Kel do anything womanly, but here she was clearly in her element. He looked at the rest of the crowd. Yuki was there too.

The fan fluttered gracefully in a whirl of colors, and Neal was entranced. "That's got to be the prettiest thing I've ever seen." He announced.

It was so simple. He stepped into the circle, reached out and caught the fan. All in one smooth motion, he noted smugly.

The ladies gasped, and Neal was startled by the weight of the fan. But they were undoubtedly impressed with him.

"What is this thing?" He demanded.

_She's got a way of __talkin_

_I don't know what it is_

_But__ it lifts me up when we are __walkin_

_Anywhere_

Yuki's eyes glittered dangerously. She walked over and grabbed the fan from him. "There is a saying in the isles," She answered coldly, "Beware of the women of the warrior class, for everything they touch is both beautiful and deadly."

She stepped over to a pile of tent poles. She chose one and brought it back to Neal. In one smooth motion, she unfurled the fan and used it to slice through the wood. She snapped the fan shut and strode away.

Neal physically _felt_ his ego deflate. The other ladies smiled sympathetically at him as they disappeared. Only Kel remained to watch him wallow in misery.

"Don't worry." Kel patted his arm reassuringly. "Yuki cools off pretty quickly."

Neal recovered slowly. "She was angry?" He asked carefully.

Kel nodded. "I think you frightened her."

Neal felt his cheeks grow warm. Yuki was _frightened_, for _his_ sake. His mood lifted and soared like the Shukusen in the dance.

_She comes to me when I'm __feelin__' down_

_Inspires me without a sound_

_She touches me and I get turned around_

_She's got a way of __showin_

_How I make her feel_

_And I find the strength to keep on __goin_

"How do people court each other in the Yamani isles?" Neal asked curiously.

He and Yuki were strolling through the palace gardens. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was an array of colors. The orange light had a dazzling effect on Yuki's warm skin.

A bit of pink seeped into her cheeks. "Why do you ask?" She replied playfully.

Neal jumped. He hadn't realized how odd the questioned sounded until after he'd opened his mouth. "Scholarly interest." He assured her. "No offense meant, lady, but your people aren't exactly open with their emotions. How do you tell if a suitor is interested?"

Yuki continued to walk in silence for a few moments. She bowed her head slightly in thought. "I can't say I have much practical experience in these matters." She admitted. "I've spent so much time preparing for Shinko's marriage; I haven't given much thought to my own. If you like, I believe I have a book by Baron Piers about the social customs in our nation, as compared to Tortall's. I read it on the ship. It's very scholarly, if that's what you're looking for."

"Yes…that…that would be enlightening, I'm sure." Neal blushed and looked away.

_She's got a light around her_

_And__ everywhere she goes_

_A million dreams of love surround her_

_Everywhere_

"Yuki is…" Neal paced his room furiously. "As sweet as pie—no, what an abysmal comparison. She is beautiful as the heavens—no. What is WRONG with me?!" He took another sip of wine and grimaced. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be drinking this late at night.

Seaver looked up from a book he was reading. "I heard of this…disease that men our age often catch. It causes the mind to melt, the heart to stutter, the throat to constrict. It can sometimes become a permanent condition."

Neal let out a little wail. "I've got the plague! Fetch some paper; I'll need to write my last words." He collapsed theatrically into a chair.

Seaver handed his year-mate a piece of paper. "I was going to say you were in love. But I guess you're the healer." He grinned and ducked Neal's swipe.

_She comes to me when I'm __feelin__' down_

_Inspires me without a sound_

_She touches me and I get turned around_

Neal sat by himself at the dinner table. All the knight-masters were out of residence except the Lioness, who was busy working with the Yamani ladies. While he stuffed down his dinner, his mind tumbled over possible lines for the poem. Words eluded him, and he was unusually stumped. He shuddered at his own word choice. Stumped, like Wyldon.

After dinner, he made his way toward the library. Oddly, he missed Kel and the gang, and their page-dom misadventures. "I should write a book chronicling our adventures," he thought, "though I'm obviously not a poet."

Yuki sat in the library, poring over an old manuscript. She looked up from her reading as Neal passed her. She smiled lightly at him, and Neal did his best to smile back.

She tilted her head curiously. "Nealan, are you ill?" She asked seriously.

He shook his head numbly. "Nothing life-threatening." He drawled. "My wandering mind seems to have gotten lost."

Yuki laid a tentative hand on his forehead. "You're feverish." She remarked. "Nealan—

"It's nothing." He murmured. His hand covered hers. He leaned in closer. "I just can't seem to find the words I'm looking for. There's something I need to tell you--"

Yuki pressed her other hand to his lips. "Me wa kuchi hodo ni mono o ii." She whispered, in Yamani. She translated, "the eyes speak as much as the mouth. Love needs no words."

Neal let out the breath he's been holding.

_She's got a smile that heals me_

_I don't know what it is_

_But I have to laugh when she reveals me_

_She's got a way about her_

_I don't know what it is_

_But I know that I can't live without her_

_Anyway_

Neal stumbled out of the chamber. He could feel the cold sweat pouring off his, his body still trembled with the terror of what he'd experienced. His friends and family waited for him anxiously, their worried faced filled his vision.

There.

Yuki's warm round face greeted his eyes like water after a prolonged drought. He smiled weakly. He had survived the Chamber's Ordeal. Now all he had to do was propose.

8888888888888888888888888

a/n: thank you to all my reviewers for your suggestions and critiques. I think Daine/Numair will be coming up next, so stay tuned.

btw, I'm trying to do a variety of pairings before I attempt to repeat pairings. I'd like to do another Beka/Rosto, and another Onua/Sarge, but not before I finish D/N, Aly/Nawat, and Kally/Kaddar.

I guess this collection is a permenant work in progress.


	11. Feathery Touch

Song: Every time we touch

Band: Cascada

Pairing: Aly/Nawat

**She caught his eye like a shiny rock. She sparkled with cleverness. Nawat was a young crow, but he knew what he was feeling. It was a force as old as Dawn Crow and Mother Sky. His flock would not approve. Young Nawat realized he didn't care.**

I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me

I still feel your touch in my dreams

Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you it's hard to survive

**Ulaism watched Nawat Crow attempt to "preen" the young ladies. The girls giggled and slapped his hands, they cooed and teased. Nawat endured them patiently; he focused on the task. Ulaism smiled. It was a good thing Aly's crooked eye didn't fall on this scene. He could only imagine what might befall those giggling gossip mongers.**

'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last

Need you by my side

**"Maybe next time I'll try kissing Nawat." Sarai sniffed and trotted away.**

**This time, the threat seemed to hit Aly directly. Apparently, even grubs and worms had not deterred Sarai from her plans. Aly felt something cold and heavy form in her stomach. She lurched forward; her feet were unwilling to go further. She forced them to obey. 'He's just a child—three months old!' Her rational mind argued.**

**'Tell yourself that next time he kisses you.' The second voice in her head sounded suspiciously like the Lioness.**

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so,

I can't let you go

Want you in my life

**Aly wandered the corridors the Beltang house. It was impossible for her to get lost by now, but she wished to find some solitude for her thoughts. The Raka were keeping her busy. The Darkings were keeping her busier still. But…something in her life was missing. She couldn't place a finger on it. Deep down, she knew was it was unrelated to this secret war the raka were raging. It was something inside her.**

**Aly hugged herself and leaned tiredly against the cold stone wall. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured the tree, the pasture, the silly sheep baying in the backdrop…and a certain young crow running its mischievous beak through her short hair.**

**She sighed and released the daydream. There were reports waiting on her desk, she had no time for self-indulgence.**

**Junai watched her mistress pace restlessly through the halls. The raka warrior felt a twinge of sympathy for her friend and commander. Aly's bright eyes had dimmed, and the lurin girl didn't have the sense to know why. Junai sent a small prayer to Mother Sky. 'May he fly safely back to the nest. May she welcome him with open wings and full heart.'**

Your arms are my castle, your heart is my sky

They wipe away tears that I cry

**Kissing was fun. Aly was very good at it. Nawat pretended not to think about how she had practiced.**

The good and the bad times, we've been through them all

You make me rise when I fall

**Aly laughed at the oddness of her situation. Suitors had once offered her jewelry, and she refused. Nawat offered her grubs, and she married him. George was right. She was a contrarian.**

'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so,

I can't let you go

Want you in my life

**It was the brightest wedding in the history of the isle. Aly pretended not to think about how the Crow guests had acquired all their sparkling jewelry. The nobles weren't much better. She adjusted her sight to compensate for the glare. Even the sun seemed to shine with more energy than usual.**

**Perhaps Mithros was having a temper tantrum in Carthak. Perhaps the Graveyard Hag had beaten him in dice again.**

**She sat at her table in the bride's room. Absently, she ran a comb through her shoulder-length locks. She toyed with a lock of hair and considered dying it purple after the wedding. Perhaps just a few streaks would present a nice contrast. She could ask Thom about it during the reception, sometime when the Lioness was listening.**

**A divine presence appeared in the room and wreaked havoc on her peripheral vision. She turned and blinked rapidly, trying to prevent tears from forming on her kohl-darkened eyes.**

**"I thought you might like something extra special for your wedding. So I bought you this." Kyprith handed her a sheer nightdress, spun with fine silver threads. It was very sparkly.**

**"Very funny. You're not just a trickster; you've a wonderful sense of humor. Did anyone ever tell you that?" Aly drawled.**

**"It's been mentioned." He answered modestly. He winked and disappeared.**

**Aly held up the lingerie for inspection. After a moment of consideration, she decided to slip it on under her wedding dress. Unlike most of her guests, Aly kept her brightest sparklies hidden.**

'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last

Need you by my side

_A/N: I apologize profusely for going out of order; I know how much you all said you were looking forward to Daine/Numair. I rationalized that something was better than nothing. I started this Aly/Nawat a while ago and recently re-discovered it on my computer. Daine/Numair is on the way though, I promise_.


	12. Ain't No Other Man Like Numair

_Song: Ain't No Other Man_

_Singer: Christina Aguilera _

_Pairing: Daine/Numair _

_I could feel it from the start,  
Couldn't stand to be apart.  
Something 'bout you caught my eye,  
Something moved me deep inside!  
I don't know what you did boy but you had it  
And I've been hooked ever since.  
I told my mother, my brother, my sister and my friends  
I told the others, my lovers, both past and present tense.  
That every time I see you everything starts making sense._

Daine watched the black robe mage, Numair, tie back his long, black locks. She resisted the urge to giggle. Onua said he was the most powerful mage in the country, and yet he couldn't master a simple Gallan braid. She had already tried to teach him a half dozen times by demonstrating on the ponies.

His hair was going to end up in one big knot. She watched him struggle for a few more moments. Finally, she took pity on him. She skirted around the campfire and gently slapped his hands away from his head. "Let me." She ordered.

Numair sighed in defeat and his shoulders slumped. Wordlessly, he handed over the hair tie. Tiny, pleasant shivers ran down his back as Daine's nimble fingers slipped across his scalp. Gods, how could this scrap of a girl have any effect on him? Perhaps he was still delusional. He tried to escape from his thoughts.

"I'm not useless, you know." He informed her.

Daine chuckled. "Of course not." She reassured him. His hair was surprisingly silky and thick. She'd known girls back home who would kill to have hair like this. Her hands trembled at the thought of home.

Numair must have felt her shaking. His large hands reached back up to cover hers. He twisted his head around so he could see her face. His black eyes opened up to her, and Daine _felt_ the power behind them. There was no demand in his eyes, no questions. There was acceptance.

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "I knew it! This knot trick of yours is a lot harder than it looks." His lips quirked in a half-smile. "Maybe I'd better stick to the good, old-fashioned horse tail—especially given present company."

Daine returned his smile but quickly looked away. Ma would've liked him.

_Ain't no other man, can stand up next to you  
Ain't no other man on the planet does what you do  
(what you do).  
You're the kinda guy, a girl finds in a blue moon.  
You got soul, you got class.  
You got style, you bad ass - oh yeah!  
Ain't no other man its true - alright -  
Ain't no other man but you._

Daine wondered why Numair was so angry with Kaddar. The prince was just being nice. It wasn't Numair's job to act like her surly older brother. Daine had proven time and time again that she could fend for herself. It wasn't as if she looked over his shoulder when he danced with his old flirts.

Maybe he was worried that Daine would like it here. Daine looked around her room. No, this wasn't her burrow. She missed Cloud too much. She missed the cold, the snow. She missed Pirate's Swoop, she missed her lessons at the palace. She missed the old Numair, the one who wasn't so worried about what everyone else was thinking.

But, he did look nice all dressed up for the party. Daine smiled to herself. This pretty, fashionable Numair she would miss when she went home.

_Never thought I'd be alright. No, no, no!_

_Till you came and changed my life. Yeah, yeah, yeah!  
What was cloudy now is clear! Yeah, yeah! You're the light that I needed.  
You got what I want boy, and I want it! So keep on givin' it up!_

Perin was nice. A little boring, a little needy at times, but sometimes he was fun. Daine wasn't ready for anything more than that.

Daine wondered sometimes if she loved Perin. She knew that someday, she would want to settle down and have kits of her own, but was Perin the sort of man she wanted to share that with?

No. He didn't like Cloud, or most of her animals for that matter. He didn't really understand what her powers made her do. Occasionally, she'd fly from the castle on a mission from the King, and Perin would sit and mope until she returned. Then he acted as if it was her fault for leaving. Daine tossed her head and stamped her foot like a pony.

Someday, she would need a real man.

_Tell your mother, your brother, your sister, and your friends.  
And the others, your lovers, better not be present tense.  
Cause I want everyone to know that you are mine and no one else's!_

Maglet. She loved Numair's pet name for her. Somehow, with the way he said it, the name never felt condescending. He made it endearing.

Calling him the stork-man just wasn't the same. Daine sat back in the grass and leaned against an old oak. She watched the ponies in the field below.

'I could call him…teacher? No, too boring. What about…wise one? No, too formal. What about…Handsome?' Daine smiled to herself. 'He's elegant, kind, wonderful, exciting, funny, protective, powerful, one-of-a-kind…'

She frowned. Finding a pet name for Numair was proving difficult. What did she associate with him more than anything else?

Love.

Daine fair jumped out of her skin. NO! She checked her temperature. Maybe she was going mad again. She wasn't supposed to love him. Numair was her_teacher_. She was his _student_.

She was his maglet.

_You are there when I'm a mess  
Talk me down from every ledge  
Give me strength, boy you're the best  
You're the only one who's ever passed every test_

Daine would never forget that Numair had helped control her madness. That he'd stood by her through Unicorn fever. That he waited for her after every mission, with a warm cloak and open arms. That he never forgot to feed her friends, or to spoil them when he thought she wasn't watching.

She would never forget how he walked through the Dragon fire because he was worried about her, and that later he faced down immortals for her sake.

She would never forget the pain she felt in Carthak when she'd thought he was dead.

She would never forget the first time she kissed him. It felt like the first time she went flying. Everything was light and wonderful. She felt safe and free at the same time. She didn't want it to stop.

But they both had to breathe sometime.

Ain't no other man, can stand up next to you  
Ain't no other man on the planet does what you do  
(what you do).  
You're the kinda guy, a girl finds in a blue moon.  
You got soul, you got class.  
You got style with ya bad ass - oh yeah!  
Ain't no other man it's true - alright -  
Ain't no other man but you.

Quiet, private dinners weren't unusual for her and Numair, but this one felt different. The food was a little too extravagant; the wine was a little too expensive. Surely, Numair could easily afford it with his royal allowance, but why would this dinner be so important?

Daine watched her lover as they grazed through the meal. Numair seemed anxious. His dark eyes were restless, unrelenting. He seemed to lack an appetite.

Daine rested her chin on her hand. She looked him directly in the eyes. "What's wrong?" She asked gently. She wondered if someone was hurt or dead.

Numair dabbed the corner of his mouth with the napkin. He cleared his throat. "Nothing is…wrong. At least, it's not unless you say its not—or that it is. I," He took a deep breath. "I don't know if you're ready, but I made something for you last week. It took a while to perfect the spells. Nevertheless," He noticed the confused look on Daine's face. His cheeks reddened. He reached into his robes and pulled out a tiny box. "I finished working on an engagement ring."

It was beautiful, perfect.

Dain gasped and leapt out of her chair. She crushed him in a bear hug and leaned up to kiss him. "That's what you were so nervous about?" Daine giggled. "As long as it doesn't bite my finger off, I'd love to wear it."

Numair peered down at his fiancé. "I think I fixed it." He answered seriously. "But I wouldn't let your friends try it on. Just in case."

Dain laughed and kissed him again.

_ And now I'm tellin you son, ain't no other man but you._

_ A/N:the site (and or my computer) isn't letting me fix some of the last formatting glitches. I'll come back some other day and align things right. _


End file.
